


you got a soul (even though you're heartless)

by shineyma



Series: walk away [4]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 14:39:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13743087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shineyma/pseuds/shineyma
Summary: To contain a collection of drabbles relating to my age difference soulmates AU.First up: Grant's POV, their first meeting





	you got a soul (even though you're heartless)

**Author's Note:**

> For sapphireglyphs, who requested exactly this, and for thestarfishdancer and an anon, whose requests in a new meme led me to Jan's request. It's a whole line of requests happening here, y'all.
> 
> Thanks for reading and, as always, please be gentle if you review! <3

Just because it’s exactly the break they’ve been hoping for doesn’t mean Grant resents the assignment to Coulson’s team any less.

It’s not that he’s gonna be responsible for watching backs other than his own (although that’s definitely a factor). It’s not even that he’s being bumped out of the fast-paced, high-stakes world of the specialist rotation and into the crazy sci-fi shit the response teams typically deal with (although he’s really not looking forward to hearing _Star Trek_ quoted as precedent).

No, the sticking point is the cover.

Of all the covers he’s used in the last decade, this one—the Agent of SHIELD cover—is the most irritating. It itches at him, leaves him uncomfortable in his skin, and drives him crazy to the point that after a few days stuck in it, he wants to punch _himself_ in the face. And that’s just when he’s on medical leave or stuck at the Hub for evaluation. Before now, this cover’s been measured in hours and days, and that was bad enough.

This time, though? _This_ assignment means he’s gotta wear the Agent of SHIELD 24/7 for the foreseeable future. He’s gonna be living with the team he’s working with, the five of them all crammed onto one plane, and that means he can’t _ever_ afford to let the cover drop—not even for a second. In a few months he might be able to ease up a little, let some of the uptight awkwardness fade into familiarity and reluctant friendship, but for the most part? He’s stuck.

So, yeah. He hates this assignment. He hates it a _lot_ …

…Right up until the moment that Jemma Simmons, biochemist and recent Academy graduate, grabs his face.

It’s like plunging into a cold pool on a hot day—removing shrapnel that’s been in long enough for the pain to fade—the first shower after fifty-six hours in the mud. He’s heard it (and he knows, he _knows_ what this is, what it _has_ to be) described a thousand different ways, but it’s nothing like what he expected, not lightning or warmth.

It’s _relief_. Plain and simple. Like a wound he’s had all his life is finally healed.

He knows what this is, but he searches her anyway, to check. And sure enough, the soulmark peeking out from the V of her neckline has filled in, a brilliant purple curve disappearing beneath the fabric.

Jemma Simmons is his soulmate.

He noted on his way in that she was cute, in a very young kind of way; now, she’s gorgeous. He wants to strip that shirt off of her, get a good look at his mark on her chest. He wants to show her her mark on _him_ , peel away the false skin covering it and see it filled in at last, bright color where there’ve only ever been stark black lines before. He wants to kiss her. He just _wants_ her.

But she’s underage, and he has a cover to keep.

Fuck.

“Oh,” Jemma says softly. Grant belatedly notices that he’s holding the cotton swab she had just a second ago, realizes she must’ve dropped it and he caught it reflexively. “Oh, you’re—”

“Simmons?” Fitz—Leopold Fitz, Level Five engineer, youngest-ever graduate of the SciTech Academy…at least until Jemma came along and broke his record by 23 days. The level of pride Grant feels at that is probably disproportionate—asks. “You okay there?”

“Yes!” she says, startling and letting go of Grant’s face. “Yes, I’m fine. It’s just—”

“Just?” Fitz prompts. His tone’s a little weird, but Grant can’t quite bring himself to look away from Jemma long enough to get a good read on him.

“We’re soulmates,” Jemma breathes—and then darts a quick little glance down at her chest. “Aren’t we?”

She’s so young. She’s underage—she’s _seventeen_. What the hell is his teenage soulmate doing on a fucking _field team_?

He knows the answer to that. He familiarized himself with the whole team’s files last week; he knows that Jemma fought and fought _hard_ to be given this field posting. He knows she wanted it bad enough to write a whole fucking _thesis_ on the benefits it’d have and the possibilities it offered, science-wise.

But he _doesn’t_ know why anyone gave in and let his tiny, untrained, _totally unprepared_ soulmate join this team.

She’s looking up at him, waiting for his agreement, all her hopes and dreams written all over her sweet face—so horribly, painfully young. No one this young has _any fucking business_ putting herself in the line of fire.

(If she gets so much as a _scratch_ he’ll kill Fury himself, Hydra be damned.)

“We are,” Grant confirms, and grips the cotton swab tight to keep from reaching for her when she brightens.

If she were older, he wouldn’t bother. If she were older, he’d probably have her halfway off the plane by now, headed for some privacy. (He can feel Fitz staring; it’s starting to piss him off.)

But there are protocols—hell, there are _laws_ —governing interactions between soulmates when one is underage, and he’s gonna have a hard enough time keeping them on the same team without breaking those laws and protocols in the first two minutes.

(Does he want them on the same team? Yes and no. He doesn’t want her on a team at all—it’s gonna take all his self-control not to personally drag her back to a nice, secure lab somewhere safe—but as hard as she fought, there’s no way she’d give up on fieldwork now. If he gets her off this team, she’ll just find another.

And if she’s gonna be on a team, he wants it to be his, _here_ , where he can protect her himself. Where he can see her and keep her close.)

Jemma bounces on her toes a little. If he’s any judge, she’s thinking about hugging him but won’t quite dare—which is fucking ridiculous. She’s his _soulmate_. She should feel free to hug him any and every time she wants.

But, again. She’s seventeen.

“Um,” she says, and then clears her throat. “I’m Jemma. It’s nice to meet you.”

With that, she extends a hand—actually, literally holds out her hand like she’s offering _him_ , her _soulmate_ , a fucking handshake. Somehow it’s simultaneously the most adorable and most infuriating thing he’s ever seen.

And who the hell is SHIELD to tell him how to touch his soulmate, anyway? If he didn’t have a cover to keep…

…But he does. He owes John more than to just abandon everything over a little bit of physical contact. And hell, he’s waited his whole life to meet Jemma. He can wait a little longer to touch her the way he wants. After thirty years, what’s twelve months?

“Nice to meet you, Jemma,” he says, and—equal parts charmed and annoyed—shakes her hand. “I’m Grant.”

She beams up at him, all big eyes and excitement, and doesn’t let go.

(Neither does he, obviously.)

“So,” she says, biting her lip just the tiniest bit. “Are you excited to be coming on our journey into mystery?”

Hell. It’s gonna be a long, long year.

“Yeah,” he says. “Can’t wait.”


End file.
